Macbeth's Hope
by Jade MacGregor
Summary: A Cornell University students falls for her mysterious and charming history professor. Can Macbeth tell her the truth? Can he finally find happiness after all these years?


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Comments welcome and enjoyed, but please be gentle!

Email me at spidergirl2323@yahoo.com

All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The 

Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The

Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is

intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All

original characters are the property of me.

"Don't forget the test on Monday. It covers chapters 17 through 21." 

Sara Cameron grabbed her books and hurried after the professor before he slipped away for the weekend. "Mr. MacDuff, do you have a minute? I'd like to talk to you if I could."

The distinguished history professor opened his office door and began to pack his papers into an old brown leather briefcase. "Come on in, I'm always willing to talk to one of my students. Especially a history grad student-- I am partial to history people." He gave his trademark grin as he finished the statement.

She wrung her hands nervously. This was embarrassing and degrading; as a history grad student, soon to be a history professor working with MacDuff, she shouldn't have to be doing this. "I, uh, well, I am having trouble with this course. I just can't seem to get a feel for this time period and area of the world." Waiting a beat, she continued. "Oh, it has nothing to do with your teaching, I just can't seem to remember the names that go with this course." 

"Stupid" She chided herself inwardly after the fact. It isn't your teaching style' was an understatement. MacDuff was famous at the university for his spirited classes; he danced, sang, and brought history to life. A person in one of his classes could close their eyes and almost imagine the present melting around them and the past beginning to replace it. It was teachers like this that made her want to become a professor herself.

"Middle Eastern history isn't really my forte. I just have to pass this course to finish my degree." This one point irked her. Because of a death in the family, she registered late, and the only class open that fit her degree plan was this one. In less than three months, Sara would be on the Cornell teaching staff, not taking classes that had no bering on her future. Usually she cherished knowledge for nothing but it's own sake, but she was restless, ready to get on with her life. She had already been promised a position in the history department teaching ancient and medieval history.

"I understand, midear, I'd much rather be teachin' a course in Scottish history than this bloody mess. There just werena enough people that signed up ta justify a course, ye ken." The corners of Sara's mouth curved slightly at his reply; she noticed when he spoke of his homeland, his accent thickened. MacDuff was a very handsome man of about 50, with silver dominating his once dark hair and beard. The female students often compared him to Sean Connery, older than most dreamed of, but amazingly sexy all the same. There were many times, especially in this course, that she had caught herself daydreaming of him.

"I digress; I can recommend a wonderful tutor for this class. If I didna have the teachers' text, I'm not sure I wouldna need a tutor myself." Reaching into his desk, he pulled out a business card and scrawled a phone number on the back. "This is his home number- tell him that I told you to give him a call."

She tucked the card into her back pocket and glanced at the tapestry decorating a wall in his office. "That tapestry is magnificent, "Sara reached tentatively to touch it, "Is it 11th century?"

When MacDuff did not answer right away, she turned to see a fleeting sadness pass through his eyes. As quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. "Do you know, of all the students that I have taught, you are the first to correctly identify that?"

"Well, it would be a shame if I could not. I am going to be teaching medieval history-I should be able to identify an artifact from the era. Besides, when I first entered college, I decided to trace my scottish ancestors, and took a course on antiquities. " Sara leaned close to study the weaving. "This is Scottish, is it not?"

MacDuff smiled broadly. "Aye. You have an excellent eye for detail. Now that I think of it, I doona have any plans for the weekend, why don't I give you a hand studying for the test? I'd love to chat awhile with a fellow medievalist; we seem to be a dying breed these days."

"Oh, wow, that would be wonderful!"

This time when he reached into his desk, he pulled out a blank sheet of paper and, in his same scrawl, jotted down the directions to his house. "How about 2 o'clock tomorrow?"

"Yeah, that would be great! Thanks again." She grabbed the paper, stole on more glance at the tapestry, and headed back to her apartment.

*********************

Sara had put the directions away far before she could see MacDuff's house; there couldn't possibly be anyone else that lived this far out from town. Trees lined both sides of the gently sloping, one laned road. I guess he wouldn't really have to worry about meeting another car around here, she mused. 

There was a slight break in the trees about a 50 yards ahead that must be the driveway. She began to slow her car in anticipation of the turn.

When she caught her first glimpse of the house, all she could do was stop the car and stare. "Its like something out of a fairy tale," she breathed. 

Towers complete with turrets stood at either end of the keep. Glass windows lined the front, more towers stood to the side of the door, which was an immense oak slab adorned with a family crest, and arched stained glass windows occupied the space from the top of the door to the roof. A banner whipped in the wind, snapping in defiance. Gardens, more perfectly manicured than any Sara had ever seen, surrounded the mansion, eventually melting into a grassy plain. All of it was completely hidden from outside view by the thick row of trees by the road.

"How on earth can a college professor own such a grandiose home?" Not for the first time, Sara began to wonder about MacDuff and who exactly he was; he always seemed almost too regal to be a college professor.

"You're a wee bit late, now." 

"I apologize, sir, it's just-- I have never seen anything quite like this. " She let her gaze sweep up and down the front of the house. " I must admit that I sat at the top of the drive for quite some time, just admiring the view."

"Well, after we've finished the lesson, I'll give you a full tour of the place." MacDuff smiled as he opened the front door and casually placed his hands back into his pants' pockets. 

Wearing black slacks and a black button down shirt, the house wasn't the only striking thing around. With his silver and black hair tousled by the wind, Sara could almost see him as a warrior king, surveying his domain, watching knights train in the courtyard, women bustling around with baskets of laundry, children playing at their skirts. Shaking her head, she cleared the images. "I don't need to be daydreaming at a time like this, I need to concentrate on tutoring." She chided herself for being so off task. Was this anyway to begin the day? Its just that the images fit all to well.

******************************

After a few hours of Middle Eastern studies, they began to tour the manse. The authenticity of the house astounded Sara. "Well, he is an expert in Medieval Scotland and England, it ought to be authentic" she reminded herself. With the exception of modern-day comforts such as electricity, appliances and plumbing, it really could have been the country home of an ancient king. 

A fire roared in the fireplace of the library. It was no less amazing than any other part of the house. The walls were lined with leather bound books, modern hardbacks, and even some just-off-the-shelf paperbacks. Sara seated herself in one of the overstuffed leather armchairs, as MacDuff picked through the books on one shelf. "You mentioned you liked the 11th century. While I don't have anything quite that old, maybe this would catch your eye." He handed her an old book, the cover warn and smelling of dust.

"A first edition Hamlet! How on earth did you get this?" Shock further filled her as she opened it to the first page. "Signed by Shakespeare himself! How is this possible? Shakespeare's plays were not even originally published in book form." She continued to gape at the priceless book in her hands.

"I can assure you, midear, it is quite authentic. It has been...in the family for generations. It seems that there were a very few copies printed, and this autograph was a favor. A signature in exchange for a story idea. It wasn't much a trade, though, the damn bloody Brit, sucking up to the buggerin' royal family." Sara was confused and intrigued at the vehemence in his voice and the anger in his eyes. 

"I take it there is a story behind that last little monologue," Sara said as she peered at MacDuff over the book. He quickly changed his demeanor back to normal, looking almost sheepish at his outburst.

"Yes, yes, quite a story. But a story for another day, I'm afraid." Just then, a light sparked in his eyes. "I have an idea for a bit of extra credit. It is commonly known that Shakespeare changed history a bit to best suit his story lines. How would you like to research the history behind, say, the play Macbeth? I have quite a selection of historic books you could use right here, and there is always the university library." 

Ecstatic by the prospect of some _interesting_ historic research and the opportunity to spend time browsing this library, not to mention raising her grade in the course, Sara jumped at the opportunity. "That would be wonderful, sir. I just can't thank you enough for all you've done. First the tutoring, now this..."

MacDuff cut her off before she could finish. "'Tis nothing. I am always willing to help out a kindred spirit." 

Sara smiled to herself as she drove back to her small apartment near campus. It seemed that things were going to work out quite nicely after all. 

************

The weeks nearing the completion of the fall semester, her final semester, thank goodness, went quickly. After classes, she would spend time in either the University library or MacDuff's personal library. 

According to Holinshed's Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and some other old historic texts, the real King Macbeth was nothing like the one portrayed in the play. 

Macbeth MacFindlay, or MacFindlaech, depending upon the author, was a noble warrior king with a tragic life. His father was cousin to the king of Scotland; much loved by the people, the king feared losing his throne to Findlay. The king and his son, Duncan, hired Gillcomgain to assassinate him. Gillcomgain was then rewarded with the title steward of Moray, which by right, should have been passed on to Macbeth. Another reward was Grouch, the woman Macbeth was courting. 

Years later, when Macbeth learned who ordered his father's death, he raised an army to fight against King Duncan. Duncan was apparently killed in battle, not murdered, and Macbeth ascended to the throne. He ruled wisely, and with a kind hand for 17 years, before the exiled son of Duncan, Malcolm Canmore, returned from England with his cousin's army at his command. Macbeth was killed in the ensuing battle, and his adopted son, Luach, was killed not long after.

This was quite a different story than the one painted by Shakespeare.

After researching for a couple of hours, Sara and MacDuff would sit near the fire and talk over what she had discovered. On many occasions, the conversation would drift away from historical events to their own lives and everyday chat.

When her paper was completed, they met at a coffee shop, so that MacDuff could read the finished product.

"_So it seems that Macbeth, a noble king, has suffered a slander of character that will undoubtedly pollute his name for decades to come. Shakespeare was a brilliant author who impacted our society by redefining tragic plays, coining words now in common use, and inspiring countless future generations. But he also drastically altered true events to accomplish nothing more than kissing up to Duncan and Canmore's descendants, the Royal family at the time."_

MacDuff placed the paper on the table and sipped his coffee, staring off into nothingness, lost in thought. "While the last sentence lacks tact, the conclusion pulls everything together quite nicely. The paper itself was very good work. You would make a fine historical author. I'd say that this is well worth the extra credit promised."

Sara smiled wide and let the glow of satisfaction radiate off of her. Pleased with her accomplishment, Sara was in a wonderful mood. "How about drinks- on me?"

"Well, I wouldn't say no'."

Sara ordered whiskey on the rocks for both of them. While they drank, she began to think about the man sitting across from her. Charming, caring, a virtual endless source of knowledge on everything, and most of all, very, very attractive. At 28, he was at least 20 years her senior, but in great physical condition. There was just something about his eyes that fascinated Sarah; sadness seemed to swim in them most of the time, but when amusement or excitement flickered there, she could almost lose herself in them. It seemed the attraction she had been trying to fight for so many weeks was finally becoming too much to hold back. She wondered what it would be like to be held in those strong arms, to kiss him, even to hold his hand.

While Sara held herself to only one drink, MacDuff continued drink, until he lost some of his prohibitions. He began to mumble nonsensical phrases, many of which Sara couldn't even begin to understand--they were in Gaelic. He said many things that didn't quite make sense, telling her odd stories that he claimed had actually happened to him. Included among these were a meeting with Shakespeare, Bonnie Prince Charlie, and even Robert Louis Stevenson.

"Sara, why do you always call me MacDuff'? Don't you think its about time you called me by my first name? We are to be colleagues in a matter of two months." MacDuff's eyes were somewhat glazed by this time.

"Well, for starters, I've always had the habit of calling people by their last names. I guess old habits are hard to break. Second, I'm afraid, I don't know what your first name is."

"Well, I go by Lennox, by dear, for it wouldn't at all do to use my given name."

Both confused and amused by this revelation, Sara asked him a question. "Lennox--you're name is Lennox. That's kind of odd, don't you think? Both names from the very play you had me research. And what do you mean you can't use your real name? I think it is about time I get you home- you seem to be a little smashed." Sara rose and took MacDuff's car keys off the table. "And I'll be the one driving, thank you."

"You ken, you're the first to make tha' connection in all the years I've used tha' name. And I canna use me name, for that would raise a great deal of questions, whose answers have no easy answers." 

Sara helped him into the car, and listened to him rant on about fleeing Scotland about 900 years ago and living both on the run from a demon and pursuing it. She noticed that he slipped into a rather thick Scottish accent, and spoke in a dialect not used in Scotland today.

Back at the house, she deposited MacDuff on the couch and turned to leave. He suddenly grabbed her hand, and pulled her down next to him. He gazed drunkenly at her, but she couldn't ignore the way her skin tingled where he stroked her hand. "I've got to get going, its already very late."

"Aye, I suppose so."

She left him there on the couch, her hand still tingling, and wondering to herself whether she shouldn't have taken this chance to kiss him. He probably wouldn't have even remembered it in the morning, anyway.

**********************************

MacDuff woke the next day with a dreadful hangover. Light hurt his eyes, every little sound make his throbbing head pound harder and he was nauseous. Groaning, he managed to roll out of bed, choke down a cup of coffee and stumble into the shower. Of all the hangovers he had had in his long life, this one was undoubtedly the worst. But he couldn't trick himself for long; it wasn't the hangover that was making him feel so bad. It was the fact he was falling in love again.

Since the death of his wife many, many years ago, he had carefully protected his heart, guarding it against any tender feelings for anyone. But now, he was falling for Sara, his student, a woman years his junior, and he was going to have to leave her-- and soon. He could never tell her the truth about his past, and it was almost time to move on; experience told him that staying in one place for too long could easily bring rise to questions that could not be answered.

When the doorbell rang, MacDuff was sitting on the couch, brooding over an afternoon cup of tea. He gritted his teeth, hoping that the caller was not his sweet and smart little pupil. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side.

"I'm sorry to come uninvited, Lennox, but I did want to check on you and make sure you were well after last night." Those words were far from music to his ears; she was concerned for him. Was it possible that she felt the same way that he did?

"Yes, I am not feeling my best, but I am quite all right. Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?" The words had already left his mouth before he could stop them.

Seated in the library that she loved so much, Sara watched MacDuff. He seemed to be struggling with an issue today. She attempted to make conversation with him, but he didn't seem to be interested. Deciding to break her news, Sara cleared her throat and began: "I was thinking of publishing my paper on Macbeth. I haven't ever been published before, and I was wondering if you would be able to give me some advice."

"Why do you want to publish it? Don't get me wrong, it is a great work, but, ah, just humor me."

Sara was thoroughly puzzled by his response. "Well, I guess a bit of it is pride in my work, but mainly, I just want people to know the truth about Macbeth. He is very misunderstood, know as a criminal. Someone ought to clear his name and tell the world that he was a great and noble king, not a power hungry murderer."

That one statement almost undid MacDuff. He turned to her, looking close to tears. "That is the kindest and most unselfish motive I have ever heard for publishing. Of course I will help you out, but first, I want to tell you another side to the story. You won't find this one in any books or records, and there is only one other person in the world who knows it. Of course, it will be a little hard to substantiate as fact, but you might want to add it to your paper." MacDuff strolled, tea in hand, to the fireplace and took a deep breath. Gazing into the fire, he began to tell the tale.

"It all began more than 1000 years ago, long before anyone ever imagined. The year was 994, superstition and the sword ruled. It was a time of darkness, it was a world of fear. It was the age of gargoyles." And so began his tale. 

Sara sat stunned as Lennox told a tale a betrayal, a massacre and isolation of a creature called a gargoyle. When the young Macbeth had almost been killed, the aged gargress saved his life. Many years later, the favor was reciprocated, and eventually they became linked, not only by an alliance, but by magic.

She weeped as Lennox recounted the last moments between the fallen king and his beloved queen, the tale of his life after his kingdom had been captured by Canmore, and he was forced to live in hiding, while he watched everyone he ever knew die.

When Lennox finally finished his tale two hours later, he sat down next to her and placed his hand over hers. "I, I don't know what to say. It is impossible, or it should seem so, but it also seems so real." 

"Ah, if only it was merely a tale, but I can assure you it is quite real."

"But how can you know? How is it possible? Immortality? I am so confused."

"Use the tale in your paper if you want; turn it into a novel, forget you even heard it. The option is up to you." He started to stand, but she refused to release his hand.

"Have you met him? Is this how you know everything?" She was quite persistent. Before she had the opportunity to ask anymore questions, Lennox leaned in and kissed her gently. Sara lost herself in the kiss; she could feel his arms around her and melted as his tongue invaded her mouth. The heat and scent of him made her dizzy, and in a moment, she knew the feelings she had for him had reached a new high. She was in love with him.

Sara had never been so frightened of her feelings for anyone before. The power that she felt scared her to death. She pulled away and jumped up, already running toward the door. "I've got to go. Its late, I , um, I have an, things to do." Not quite running, she bolted from the house and into her car.

When she finally got home, it took all her strength not to drive right back; she was frightened, yes, but not immune to desire.

**************************************

Sara dreamed bright, vivid dreams that night. She was Gruoch, Macbeth's wife, and she watched in horror, first as she saw her countrymen, fighting with swords and shields only, slaughtered by fully armored English knights lead by Canmore. Then she watched her husband and true love murdered, stabbed in the back, only to comeback to life minutes later.

Gasping, she bolted upright in bed. Sara was drenched in sweat and confused. The dream seemed so real, her trembling body and teary eyes were testament to that. Before she could even catch her breath, she caught three figures outside her window in the corner of her eye. Then she turned her head to get a better look, but in a flash of light, they were gone.

It was hours later when Sara awoke to a beautiful Sunday morning. Still disturbed by the vivid dream, and ashamed of the way she fled from Lennox last night, she packed a picnic lunch and headed out toward the castle. Now that she had come to terms with her feelings for Lennox, she wanted nothing more than to spend some time with him.

Sara was surprised to see a black Mercedes coupe parked the the drive of the house. She did not think anything of it, until she realized that the front door was ajar and heard a fight ensuing inside. Proceeding to the great hall, Sara wondered what exactly she would find happening.

From the hallway, Sara peered into the hall. Lennox, obviously furious, stood across from an attractive red haired woman in a tailored suit. "I have spent too much of my life dealing with you, monster, now leave me be!" Sara had never seen him so angry before; his bellowing at this woman unnerved her.

"I would have thought you would be relieved to hear I wanted to end it, once and for all. We have spent far too much time bound to this depressing life." The woman's voice was cold with hatred.

"No! Maybe a few weeks ago, but not now. Not now! I am not ready to accept fate. I have finally found happiness, and you willna take it away from me!"

The woman screamed in frustration, although to Sara it seemed more like a roar. Then a look of realization crossed her face. "It's a woman, isn't it? You have gone and fallen in love." She laughed what only could be described as maniacally. "Have you told her yet?" When Lennox hesitated, and evil grin spread over the woman's face. "You haven't, have you? Do you honestly think that she will stay with you when she finds out? Do you think she will still love you?" She laughed, and Sara's blood ran cold.

When the woman stalked past her with out noticing her, Sara breathed a sigh of relief. She walked into the hall, where Lennox was pacing back and forth. "Len, are you all right?"

"Sara! How long have you been hear? What did you hear?" 

"I just got here and saw a woman storm out of the door and peel out in her car," she lied. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. It is a long story I shall tell you some time." He hesitated before taking her hand. "I'm surprised you came back after the way you ran out of here last night."

"That was stupid of me. I- I just got scared. I had to work some feelings out." When she saw him looking at the basket in her hand, she said, "I thought a picnic would be nice today. I think it will be just the thing to take your mind off that fight."

He kissed her gently and said "I'm sure that it will, midear."

****************************

After eating, they laid hand in hand on the bank of a pond on Lennox's estate. Sara leaned against him and contentedly dozed, falling into a deep sleep. When she awoke, she found herself in his arms, being carried back to the house. Stretching, Sarah asked, "How long did I sleep?"

"It's been about an hour." He placed a kiss on her forehead and continued into the house. "You must have been tired"

"I am so sorry. I just didn't sleep well at all last night. I had an awful nightmare." He sat down on the couch, and she put her head in his lap. 

"Do tell; there was a time that dreams were considered omens. Maybe I will try my hand at interpretation."

She told him her dream, making sure to describe the creature- a gargoyle- he called it, and the weird sisters. At that moment, she thought he was going to have a heart attack. "Are you sure? The weird sisters were in your dream? And then they showed up outside your window? What did they say? Did they harm you in anyway?" He was on his feet and shouting at her by this time.

"I never said it was the weird sisters outside my window. I just said I thought I saw some people."

All the color was draining from Lennox's face. "You must leave. Right now, you have to leave. I have an appointment." He forcefully calmed himself. His continued panic, would draw questions. "I mean, I've lost track of time. I should have already left by now." If only she knew what he meant by that.

"Len, what's going on here?"

"I don't quite know. Just know this, whatever happens, I love you. I will be gone for a while. There are some things I need to take care of." Sara was too shocked by his sudden admission of love to realize he had already escorted her to her car. The door slammed and instant later, and he was gone. Refusing to leave it like that, Sara walked right back into the house and found Lennox in his room already packing a suitcase.

He seemed more intense now than agitated, and Sara was glad to see it. "Len, you cant make me leave like this." He turned to see her standing in the doorway, her arms crossed defiantly across her chest.

He smiled and went to her. "No, I suppose not. I'm just afraid I can't tell you anything else about what is going on until I get some things settled."

"That's not what I am talking about. You can't just tell a girl no matter what happens I love you, like you are going off to be killed in war, then shove her into the car!" She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. "I wasn't sure how you felt, but know that I love you, too." 

His eyes showed his pleasure, as he took her mouth. She sank into him and felt nothing but pleasure as he swept her off her feet and moved toward the bed.

**********************

When Sara woke up in the morning, she rolled over and reached for Lennox. When she found the other side of the bed empty, she sat up to see where he had gone. On the night stand next to her bed were a dozen roses and a note. Smiling, she reached for the stand, but as she began to read the letter, her hands began to shake.

_My love, _

Please forgive me for what I do. I have not loved anyone as much as I love you for a very long time. I have taken leave from the university to take care of some old business; when I return, whether that will be in a few months, or a year, I will explain everything to you. For right now, I must leave. With the children of Oberon taking an interest in you, I fear for your safety. Please understand that I have no choice in what I do. Stay here as long as you like, but as soon as you leave, the automated defenses will be activated, and you will not be able to return. I am truly sorry for leaving like this, but I knew the longer I waited the harder it would become.

I love you with all my heart, Lennox.

Sara wasn't sure of how to proceed. Should she be happy that MacDuff wanted to protect her, or should she feel abandoned? Should she wait, pining for him until he returned, or should she believe he was never coming back and go on with her life?

A few weeks passed, and she graduated with honors, just as she expected. Instead of going strait to work, she decided to take a semester off; she would take a vacation, relax, and sort things through in her head. She decided to go and visit some relatives in New York City, she hadn't seen her cousin David, his wife and son in years.

*********************

"Sir" Owen Burnett sounded as indifferent as always. "It seems we have a visitor."

"Do tell, Owen. It's life's little surprises that make it interesting." Xanatos followed Owen to a large screen displaying a landing hovercraft. "Macbeth? What could he want?"

Xanatos quickly donned his steel clan armor and greeted Macbeth in the castle courtyard.

"I must speak with the Puck, Xanatos," he called "Now!"

"What is it you want, sir?" Owen adjusted his glasses as he spoke. 

"I must speak to the weird sisters, and you are the only one who knows how to call them. I need to tell them to stay the hell out of my life." As commanding as ever, Macbeth stood in the courtyard, wearing his armor and cloak, laser gun strapped to his thigh. Xanatos hadn't seen Macbeth in five years, but in the years of the feud with the gargoyles, he had seen him often enough to know that this visit was not an attack.

"Sir, you know ever since Oberon passed his judgment I cannot become the Puck, save training or protecting Alex. Alex will, in a couple of weeks, be learning how to call Oberon's children, and I'm certain that we will be able to help you then." Owen flipped through an agenda checking the dates. "Yes, that lesson will be twelve days."

"Thank ye, laddie. I am most grateful." With that, Macbeth climbed back onto his hovercraft and headed back towards the north.

*******************

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

Sara stood in awe as she did every time she saw her cousin's place. To think, she was going to be a poor teacher, and her cousin owned the largest building in the world and a multinational corporation.

She walked through the doors of the Eyrie Building, checked in at the front desk, and was escorted to the castle-top. David and Fox came out to greet her, with five and a half year old Alex tagging behind. This was their second surprise visit of the week, David noted. 

At dinner, David, Fox, and Sara chatted for a long time, catching up, sharing stories and reminiscing. There were, however, some stories David chose not to tell his cousin. Right after sunset, as the gargoyles glided past the great hall window, Xanatos thought that Sara had seen them, but luckily, she hadn't. Finally, Fox stopped stalling, and asked the tough question.

"So Sara, what really brings you to New York. And don't lie and tell me you wanted to visit us--you never were much for family." With a woman's intuition, Fox knew what was really wrong, but she also knew she couldn't be the one to bring it up.

"I just thought I would take some time off before starting my job, and this....I thought this was a good city to....." Sara burst into tears. "He left me! He said he would be back, but I just don't know. I love him so much." She handed Fox the letter, and began to sob into her napkin.

A man who loved family as much as he loved money and power, David was determined to get to the bottom of this mess. "What happened Sara? Tell me the story."

"Lennox was my professor. I was only a semester away from my Ph.D. I was doing a special project for his class, we spent lots of time together and fell in love. The he freaked out and left. He had an excuse, but I'm not sure I believe it anymore. I haven't heard from him in weeks." In her state, David was surprised she could make coherent sentences.

"Hmmm." Xanatos looked at the top of the castle, where Goliath slept during the day. "Tell me his name. I have some friends that might be willing to scare him a bit." With a mischievous look in his eye, he turned to Sara. 

She wiped her eyes and said. "No, I have to take care of this myself. I am going to wait here a while and then I will hunt Mr. MacDuff down myself. I don't care anything about those damn automated defenses."

"David, have a look at this letter, I th--" 

"Not now, honey," David said as he cut Fox off. "The man you are in love with is Lennox MacDuff, and he has automated defenses?" 

Fox was now handing the letter to her husband. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Without doubt. Read this."

David shook his head in disbelief. It really is a small world. "She must be the reason he wanted to talk to Owen!! He wanted to protect you-_you're _ the one he has fallen for!"

Confused just as much as she was the last time she had seen Lennox, Sara stood there, not knowing what to think. Xanatos quickly pressed the intercom button on the mantle, and beckoned Owen.

"You know that lesson you are going to teach Alex in a few days? The special lesson?" Owen nodded. "Meet my cousin Sara, she is the recipient of the good will."

There was no surprise in his expression, but his voice was a different story. "You can not be serious, sir. Mac-" he was cut off by Xanatos before he could continue.

"Owen, I suggest you get back to working on that lesson. I have some vested interest in seeing that this one succeeds.

David returned to a vexed Sara and put his arm around her. "Cousin, exactly how much do you know about this man you love?"

Not much, actually. I know he is a medievalist at Cornell and he had a wife and son die many years ago. Oh, he has this odd hatred of Shakespeare."

"At this, Fox and David burst into a fit of laughter. "I hope you are up for a late night. We have quite a story to tell you, and some house guests for you to meet. And I also have a feeling you are going to have a lot to swallow."

**********************

Macbeth's hovercraft landed with a rush of air and a thud. He had just stepped out into the courtyard of Castle Wyvern, when he felt the fist make contact with his face. He was knocked onto his backside, but was up, with laser gun drawn just a moment later. He was sure Xanatos, Goliath or Demona was attacking him. He jumped up, pointed the gun and prepared to fire, ready to face his unprovoked attacker.

Not a single one of his enemies stood before him, it was his love, her face in a fury, eyes red and swollen with tears.

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?" Those were the only words Macbeth was able to get out before Sara began screaming at him.

"How could you lie to me like that? What, did you think I wouldn't notice you are immortal? Everything you told me was a lie. Do you even really love me? I bet that was a lie, too. I can't believe I let myself be taken in by your charm and your kind eyes, you deceitful snake!" She reached up to slap him, but he caught her hand.

"I never want to see you again!" She tried to pull away from him, but he held her tight while she struggled against him. He pulled her into his arms, and waited for her to calm down. When she began to sob against his chest and relax into his arms, he kissed her forehead. "There, there, mo chroi. Indeed, I never told ye the truth, but it was because I feared as soon as ye ken who and what I am, you would be scared of me. And I never lied about my feelings for you. I love you."

Goliath and Elisa stood as observers on a turret watching the pair. Snuggled together and content in their own love, they watched the once villainous Macbeth confess his undying love for this woman. "It is good to see MAcbeth a changed man. The power of love conquers even the heart made of stone," Goliath rumbled.

***********************************

Later that night, David Xanatos, knocked gently on the library door, where Macbeth and Sara lay together in front of the fire. "I do hate to interrupt you two, but Owen was about to begin Alex's lesson."

"Excellent. We'll be there in a minute." Macbeth rose and helped Sara up.

Macbeth kissed her gently and, taking her hand, walked out to the courtyard, where Puck, Xanatos, Fox, Alex, Goliath, and Elisa were waiting.

Alex began the incantation. Light flashed and the weird sisters appeared.

"You called us, Puck? Do you require aid in training the boy? In protecting the boy, perhaps?" Each of the three took their turn in speaking.

"No, no, no....this was merely a training exercise for my bright boy here. But you three are requested by this one." Floating in the air, he pointed at Macbeth. "I believe you are well aquatinted with him."

"Macbeth, what is it that you want from us? We are not pleased by your beckon. We will not remain here long, so say your peace."

"What is it that you want with Sara? Have you no compassion for me? You, who created me, cannot allow me a moment of peace?"

"We were merely watching our child. You and Demona have taken very different routes lately. Lady Titania is very pleased with you and wishes to release you from your bond."

"Release me? So that I may become mortal once again? How? What must I do?" For the first time in 900 years, Macbeth felt hope enter his life. The opportunity to finally live life knowing that he will not see everyone he cares for wither away and die made him ecstatic.

"It seems that you have finally learned your lesson. Demona, in turn must also learn hers. The day that Demona learns that revenge and bitterness do not heal the spirit, but only further the pain, you will be released." With a whirl of wind and a flash of light, the sisters were gone.

Everyone witness to the scene remained silent after this unexpected course of events. It was unheard of for the weird sisters to reverse a spell, even at the request of Lady Titania. David was the first to speak. "Well old man, it seems congratulations are in order for you. Welcome back to the mortal realm." He patted Macbeth on the shoulder and smiled broadly at his cousin, who was still quite bewildered from the events. 

Macbeth was a bit more conservative his statement. "It will be a long, hard road ahead of me. Making Demona see the truth and face her past willna be a simple task."

"What do you mean it will be hard for you?' After what you put me through the last time you went on a little trek, do you honestly think I will just let you walk out of here with out me?" Sara was obviously back to normal and wasn't going to be abandoned again.

The crowd slowly retreated back into the castle to give the couple privacy to discuss the issue. When they were alone, Macbeth began to explain himself: "Sara, mo chroi, this will be a tough life. Chasing after Demona is hard work--I've done it for 900 years. I donna wish to expose you to it."

"You can stand here and tell me that after all this time, you have finally found happiness, but you won't let yourself be happy. You might be able to believe that, but I won't. Whether you like it or not, I am coming with you." Sara took Macbeth's hand. "I love you. I don't care if you are immortal, 900 years old, or if you are able to change Demona."

Macbeth swept Sara off her feet and carried her toward his hovercraft. "Then we better get started on the wedding plans, then. If we are working on forever, we may as well start now."

The door to the craft shut on the couple, and took off toward Scotland. Macbeth wouldn't have his wedding anywhere else but in the castle where everything began; grateful for the opportunity to finally share his life, his secrets, and his passion, with someone who truly loved him.


End file.
